Polychromatism: Part IV
by J.Fontaine
Summary: One-shots #16 - 20 of Anya/Dimitri, from Fox's 1997 Anastasia.
1. After Tonight

16. Coral

_AN: I apologize in advance for the fluff factor of this drabble, but it's been a long time, and I have to stretch a little before I take off running, know what I'm sayin'? Enjoy if you can :) _

_After Tonight_

It was lovely, really, these familiar faces beaming beneath a coral sky.

There was a boy, very young, with dimpled cheeks and an impish twinkle in his eyes. Three girls all older than she beckon for her to join in their vast amusement.

There is no fear. Only a sharp longing.

"Hello, Sunshine!" The man smiles up at her from the water far below, and the familiar warmth in his face makes her want to weep with joy.

"Hello!" she calls back. The tinny echo of her voice in this place causes her to giggle with its strangeness.

"Jump in!" The little boy at her side takes a flying leap off the small ledge where they stand, squealing during his descent and taking great delight in splashing the water's inhabitants.

This feeling is unparalleled. It was happiness so deep it made her bones ache. She could feel her heart straining, trying to get closer to the familial warmth generated by the people below her.

Maybe she should do it.

Maybe she should jump.

The ache in her bones rises to an impossible roar. She moves closer to the edge of the ledge, desperation beginning to take hold. She cannot let this feeling go. She will die without it. She cannot go back to being alone, with nothing and no one.

One foot is poised in the air –

But something changes. The sweet coral world with its fragrant flowers disappears in an instant and is replaced by physical embodiments of darkness and fear. The people from before, with the kind eyes and smiles and laughter, have all gone. Demons beyond physical description scream at her now, demanding that she jump, pulling and clawing at her, trying to drag her down into the abyss.

Their awful hollow screams drown out her own.

She must get away.

"Anya! Anya, wake up! Wake up!"

Anya's eyes snap open to see Dimitri, his brow furrowed, the salty ocean rain streaming in rivulets across his face. His hands have a painful grip on her shoulders.

She opens her mouth to whisper his name in relief. Nothing escapes her but a guttural moan of despair.

He crushes her to his chest, wondering what horrors she had to have seen in her dream that would have her ready to pitch herself overboard in a thunderstorm. They shiver together, bed clothes plastered to their skin as the rain begins to ease. Anya's trembling fingers find Dimitri's face just as his lips find hers.

And the storm that was fell completely silent, outdone by the fearsome power of true love.


	2. Chess

17. Peach

_Chess_

"I want to know, Dimitri."

"Why?" He was growing tired of this conversation and cursed himself for even bringing it up.

"Because I am your wife and I deserve to know." Anya bit her lip, her emotions cycling rapidly through rage, jealously, curiosity, embarrassment, and back again. "What was her name?"

Dimitri coughed and sat back on the couch. "It doesn't matter," he murmured, staring at their unfinished game of chess on the coffee table.

"It does," Anya snapped, eyes crackling up at him from where she was seated on the floor, her slim legs tucked under her body.

Dimitri sighed, his body slumping slightly as the fight drained out of him. "Katerina. Her name was Katerina. I…I called her Katya."

"And?"

"She was my first."

Anya winced a little. The feeling of hollowness was subtle but she noticed it just the same. He'd said he told her everything. _Everything_. "You lied to me."

"No – "

"You did. You said I was the first one – " Anya swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat.

Earnest brown eyes found hers, murmuring quietly of memories of their wedding night, in a language that only Anya's eyes could decipher.

"Anya…I didn't lie to you. She may have been the first girl who had my body but you were the first woman to have my heart. I'd never made love to anyone before you."

Anya considered that as her heart melted a little.

"Did she love you?"

Shaking his head, Dimitri replied, "No. And I didn't love her. I gave her what she wanted and she went away."

"Was she the only one?"

"Anya, please – "

"Was she?"

He sighed. "Yes. I was too busy trying to keep from starving or freezing to death to focus on that."

"Good." Anya smiled when Dimitri made a face at her, then returned her attention to their game.

"And was she better at it than me? I imagine she had quite a bit more experience – "

"Anya, for God's sake!"

"Just answer the question and make your move, " she laughed.

Dimitri's face was suddenly grave. "No one on this earth ever has or ever will have the effect on me that you do, lovely wife." Then he captured another one of her pawns and grinned at her. "Your move."

"Hmm." Anya pursed her lips in thought before reaching up to remove the pins from her hair, then pushed down the straps of her peach satin pajama top. Dimitri's mouth went dry as he watched the shimmering mass settle on her bare shoulders.

She leaned over the little table, her mouth barely brushing his as she cornered his king with a devilish smirk.

"Checkmate."


	3. Wiggle Room

18. Brown

_Wiggle Room_

It started off innocent enough - a miniscule flick of a spoon, the sound of the splat hitting Dimitri right between the eyes.

Their kitchen was just big enough for one person to turn around in, and it was impossible to reach down into the lower cabinets and open the refrigerator at the same time. Something that looked like moss was growing on the ceiling in the spot where it leaked whenever it rained.

And sometimes, late at night, Anya had to help Dimitri fight rats the size of Labrador puppies and their next-door neighbors played Italian opera phonographs loud enough to wake the baby.

But for Anya and Dimitri, their tiny one-bedroom apartment in St. Petersburg felt like a palace as they lay on the cheap wooden floor with their son still in diapers, covered in the gooey brown aftermath of their chocolate pudding fight and laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

Let the dogs howl in the alley. Let the ceiling rot away right above their heads.

Life is too precious not to live in the now.


	4. Last and First

_FYI: Vatrushka is a kind of Russian cake. Yummy :)_

19. Tan

_Last and First_

"How old were you when you got your first kiss?"

Dimitri held Anya's head still in his lap and dropped a quick kiss on her lips.

"I find it amusing that you never tire of hearing about my sexual escapades with other women."

Anya grunted and scowled at him but said nothing. She did find hearing about his love life before her rather…arousing, but she wasn't about to tell him that. She'd never hear the end of it.

"Just answer the question, please."

He shifted and pulled one leg up, leaving the other as Anya's pillow. The fire crackled away in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the tan carpet where they lay. Dimitri rested one arm on his raised knee, deep in thought.

"I was fifteen – no, sixteen. I'd just turned sixteen the week before."

"Sixteen?"

He peered down at her. "Don't look so shocked."

"But isn't that old for a boy?"

"How old did you expect me to be, two?"

When she was quiet for a while, Dimitri demanded, "What?"

Anya laughed. "It's just that, well, you're a con-man – " Dimitri glared at her " – sorry, _were_ a con-man, for your entire life…"

Dimitri didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. "And you think I tried to con every girl I met out of her unmentionables?"

"No," Anya laughed harder. "Not exactly. I just thought you would've experimented before that. I mean, sixteen _is _pretty old for a boy. I would think you would have kissed a girl by maybe seven or eight…"

He rolled his eyes. "And how old is old for a girl, might I ask?"

"I don't know, but I was ten when I got mine."

"Ten!"

"Yes, Dimitri. We weren't all prudes like you were in your youth."

"Why, Anya," he chuckled, "I had no idea you were that kind of girl."

Her smile was wistful. "It wasn't like that. In the orphanage, we got dessert only on holidays. There was a boy who sat next to me sometimes during dinner who had managed to steal an extra piece of vatrushka from the kitchen. He told me I could have it if I gave him a kiss, so I did."

"Ah, I see. So you bartered your first kiss. Somehow that knowledge doesn't surprise me."

"Well, vatrushka was the highlight of the year."

"I think that boy got the better end of _that_ bargain," Dimitri murmured, then bent his head and gave his wife a deep, sweet kiss that had her clutching at his shoulders and seeing stars behind her eyelids. She groaned in protest when he finally pulled away.

"What was that for?" she asked, completely breathless.

"For letting me give you the last first kiss you will ever have."

"Your welcome. Now thank me some more."


	5. Bad Dreams

20. Golden

_Bad Dreams_

This was bad. Very bad.

"Goodnight, Dimitri," he heard her whisper. It was so bad, in fact, that now that her voice reminded him of the sweet laughter of angels rather than the grating whine of metal on metal it had been when they met.

He murmured something barely intelligible and quickly rolled over on his side on the floor, his back to her and the suitcases that created the confines of his makeshift bed.

Anya continued to converse in hushed tones with Vlad. Dimitri squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to remember how she had looked late that afternoon when she emerged on the deck of the Tasha. The soft light of the dying sun had turned the wispy tendrils of hair around her hairline a shimmering golden color. Her eyes had sparkled in greeting; her usually wry smile was shy. And he had stared, dumbfounded, as if she had been some unearthly goddess descended from the clouds.

Anya was witty, smart, funny. And now, unbearably desirable.

But this was a con. All three of them were walking the razor's edge, and he was in too deep now to give it all up for a girl he sincerely wished he didn't care about - there was no point in denying it now - and who he hoped didn't give a damn about him.

And for the first time in years, he prayed.

Prayed that she'd forget him when this was over. Even though he knew with his entire being he would never, never forget her.

She was quiet now. Vlad was snoring.

Dimitri finally relaxed and let the nightmares come.

_A/N: I am seriously considering undertaking an entire rewrite of the Anastasia movie, minus Rasputin and other needless scenes. I want to add a sense of realism to the story. I would continue the story past Anya and Dimitri's wedding night, of course, and dig in to their struggles and triumphs as a newly married couple, possibly borrowing some themes from these drabbles. So if I don't update for a while, that's what I'll be doing. I'll be uploading them a chapter at a time if I decide to do it, so add me to your author alerts if you're intrigued..._


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